


If It's Broken, Don't Fix It

by lemyh



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:44:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2057904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemyh/pseuds/lemyh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It happens a lot here. The elevator is really crappy; it only lasts a few minutes though.” Stiles thought about it for a moment before he added, somewhat helpfully, “If you’re going to be riding the elevator, you might want to plan ahead.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	If It's Broken, Don't Fix It

**Author's Note:**

> This is an all human AU where the elevator in Stiles' (and now Derek's) building is shitty and stalls every time. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

The elevator in Stiles’ building seemed to have a life of its own. He could count on probably one hand the number of times it went from the main floor to his floor without issues. He had lived there for two years and it hadn’t worked since day one.  
  
And sure, he could take the stairs. Except he lived on the fifth floor and he’d rather get stuck in the elevator for five or ten minutes over going up and down the stairs as often as he came and left his apartment.  
  
His laziness was legendary.  
  
The first time he saw Sexy McBroody, the hot guy that lives on the top floor, one above Stiles, was in the elevator. Stiles had gotten into the elevator wearing his Beacon Hills High School lacrosse sweats, not his most attractive outfit, but he was just running to a nearby store for some milk. And there was McBroody wearing tight dark jeans, a soft looking gray shirt, and a leather jacket.  
  
Stiles didn’t have much luck as he tried not to stare at the occupant. Instead he pressed the button for the main floor and waited. Of course McBroody had cast one look at Stiles and then went back to glaring at his phone.  
  
That was when the elevator came to a screeching halt.  
  
McBroody looked around, clearly startled, so Stiles decided to step in.  
  
“It happens a lot here. The elevator is really crappy; it only lasts a few minutes though.” Stiles thought about it for a moment before he added, somewhat helpfully, “If you’re going to be riding the elevator, you might want to plan ahead.”  
  
At the end, McBroody looked a little outraged. His voice was softer than Stiles had expected as he asked “And the management hasn’t fixed it?”  
  
Stiles shrugged as he pretended to read the emergency instructions on the control panel. Honestly he’d read them so many times he could probably recite them from memory.  
  
“We all filed complaints at one point or other. About every six months someone comes out to “fix the elevator” but it doesn’t help.” Stiles shrugged again and did a helpless little gesture as if to say “what can you do?”  
  
McBroody rubbed a hand over his face, tension evident in his (ridiculously wide) shoulders. At first Stiles thought it was just frustration at being stuck but something else, something about the set of McBroody’s jaw and how he kept looking around made Stiles think that maybe McBroody was claustrophobic.  
  
He asked as much as McBroody gave a small pause before he stiffly replied “It’s more the fear of falling to my death,” and Stiles nodded his understanding.  
  
“It helps if you just focus on something else, your breathing or counting or something. Personally, I just talk to myself or listen to music. After a while it becomes less scary. Not that I think you’re scared or something, I’m just saying that…” Stiles once again gestured but stopped before he accidentally slapped his elevator companion in the face. He finished with a mumbled “That it is pretty disconcerting to be stuck in an elevator.”  
  
As Stiles finished talking, the elevator started up again. He grinned and pumped his fist in the air, as if he somehow made it start up himself. McBroody looked startled, shell shocked even, so Stiles tried to tone it down a bit. Stiles grinned wide though as he stuck his hands in his jacket pockets as he asked “Did you count, focus on your breathing? It helps, yeah?”  
  
The elevator came to a half and the doors opened. When McBroody stepped out, he mumbled “Something like that,” and walked away.  
  
After that, Stiles thought for sure he wouldn’t see McBroody in the elevator again. He caught sight of him sometimes, leaving as Stiles arrived or vice versa, but never in the elevator.  
  
Two months after the first elevator incident, it happened again. Stiles had put his clothes in the dryer and had gone for a run, a ritual of his to pass the time it took the dry his clothes. Only this time, somehow, he’d gotten distracted and ran for longer than he should have.  
  
By the time he’d gotten back to the building, his body felt like jell-o. Stiles quickly shoved his clothes into his hamper, shot a glare at the guy who scoffed when Stiles didn’t even wait to fold his clothes, and ran up the steps to the main floor.  
  
He made a mad dash for the elevators, yelled for the person to please hold the doors as he dragged the hamper as fast as he could. There was no way he’d get it up to his floor without collapsing somewhere in the middle.  And why didn’t the elevators go to the basement? Why stop on the ground floor?  
  
The hand that kept the doors from closing was attached to an arm encased in leather. While Stiles breathed a little heavy, he nodded his thanks to McBroody, but he stopped when he saw a girl beside him.  
  
It wasn’t like Stiles thought he and McBroody would run away into the sunset together; he just had gotten used to his little fantasy world and wasn’t quite ready for it to end.  
  
The doors opened on the second floor but no one got on so it started to move again. Stiles pretended he didn’t notice the girl kept shooting McBroody and instead glanced at his phone. It wasn’t until he felt a gaze on him that he looked up and met the girl’s eyes.  
  
“You’re out of breath after walking up one flight of stairs?” Her voice held just a little mockery, one eyebrow raised in almost a mirror image of McBroody’s own facial expression. At the question, McBroody snorted and turned to look at the doors.  
  
Stiles cleared his throat and smiled as he explained “I went for a run while my clothes were in the dryer and I accidentally ran for longer than the dryer did so I was in a rush to get back because otherwise other people will pull out your clothes and dump them on the floor.”  
  
And sure, he’d done it too. If you leave your clothes in there for too long, it was fair game as far as he was concerned.  
  
Ignoring his urge to defend his stamina to virtual strangers, Stiles was about to simply just turn away when, somewhere between the third and fourth floor, the elevator shuddered to a stop. Stiles glanced back at his phone to time this outage and the girl laughed.  
  
“You weren’t kidding,” Her laugh made McBroody’s cheeks (and ears) turn a faint shade of pink that Stiles thought was precious. And while Stiles felt the urge to defend his home, because the elevator may be crap but it was a good building otherwise, he bit his tongue.  
  
Three minutes into it, Stiles could see McBroody was getting tense again. His companion didn’t seem to notice, busy scrolling through her phone in a bored manner, so Stiles did what he did best. Talk.  
  
“Every time the elevator stops, I think about climbing out of the top hatch like in the movies. Although with my luck, the moment I get on top, it’d start to move again.”  
  
McBroody’s face seemed less pinched, his shoulders not forced up to his ears. The girl blinked, having realized what was happening when Stiles had started to talk, her eyes moving from Stiles to McBroody. Stiles opened his mouth, probably to keep up the steady stream of consciousness, but the elevator shuddered once more.  
  
On the fifth floor, Stiles pulled the laundry bag from the elevator. He tossed a quick wave over his shoulder and pulled his keys from his pocket. As the elevator doors started to close, he caught a quick snippet of conversation.  
  
“Der, was that…” followed by McBroody saying “Drop it Cora,”  
  
Inside Stiles’ apartment, a one room studio layout apartment that Stiles probably spent too much money on, he thought about what he’d heard.  
  
Der. Short for Derek maybe? Unless it was Dare, short for Darren or Daryl or something. Truthfully McBroody looked more like a Derek than he did a Darren or a Daryl.  
  
While Stiles folded and hung up his clothes, he thought about “Derek” and Cora and tried not to be disappointed. The odds of McBroody being single had been astronomical anyways. No one with those eyes, that stubble, that body, could be single. Unless they really wanted to be, which was also an option since his nickname was Sexy McBroody.  
  
It seemed like after that Stiles saw McBroody everywhere. He didn’t see the girl, Cora, again but sometimes McBroody would mumbled “I love you too” into the phone in a tone of voice that suggested fondness, habit. Of course he could be talking to a family member. Stiles hadn’t completely vetoed the idea that Cora was a sister since they’d looked a lot alike.  
  
But maybe it was just wishful thinking.  
  
Whatever it was, Stiles noticed that McBroody seemed to take the elevator more. He always seemed tense and unapproachable on the days that Stiles saw him after he got off of the elevator alone. That and the grateful nod that he got each time made Stiles fairly confident that his distraction techniques were working.  
  
Sometimes they’d talk in the few minutes they were stuck in the elevator together. He found out McBroody’s name was Derek Hale – he’d answered the phone one day in a very official voice – and then formally introduced himself. Stiles shook his hand and introduced himself, “Stiles Stilinski, elevator connoisseur,” which had gained him a small laugh.  
  
That was a good look for Derek, but Stiles wasn’t going to dwell on that.  
  
Mostly their conversations, which only lasted as long as they were stuck in the elevator and never ventured to the shared space of the main floor, were about the menial things.  
  
Stiles kind of lived for it, which was a little pathetic and sad but he enjoyed it, the little snips of conversation. It was the highlight of his day.  
  
The night Scott stayed over, his punishment after him and Allison had gotten into an argument over the color of the baby’s nursery, Stiles told him all about Derek and the elevator. They were best friends and Stiles had felt guilty for taking so long to tell him about it.  
  
Scott, in a moment of deviousness that Stiles hadn’t expected, used Stiles’ phone to look Derek Hale up on Facebook. Once Stiles saw the picture to confirm it was the Derek Hale he was talking about, Scott started to do some digging.  
  
“He has a sister that lives in New York, a brother that is studying in Germany I think, and a sister that lives here in Beacon Hills. Cora was the girl from the elevator right? Unless it’s a common name, she’s his sister. He works… oh dude, he works with your dad at the sheriff’s department.”  
  
Stiles fought with himself before, in a moment of weakness, grabbed the phone from Scott and started to go through the pictures. There weren’t many, mostly family pictures that depicted a smiling Derek, but it still made Stiles feel a little weird so he put the phone down and started to walk away.  
  
He made a comment about feeling like “Matt from high school” as he walked into his bathroom to take a shower. When he came out, towel wrapped around his waist, Stiles saw Scott had Stiles phone out. Scott grinned, a look Stiles had long ago learned to attribute to being sneaky, and shook the phone at Stiles.  
  
“You are sending him a friend request in five, four, three, two… AH!” Scott’s scream was because Stiles launched himself at his so called best friend. Stiles chased him around the small apartment but when Stiles tripped, Scott seized the opportunity to take this little chase to the big leagues.  
  
He darted for the front door and had it unlocked and thrown open before Stiles had even fully gotten up.  
  
Regardless of only wearing a towel, Stiles took off down the stairs after Scott. The slap of his bare feet, the squeals of laughter from Scott, and Stiles’ incensed yelling echoed through the stairwell. The people they passed on the stairs, the people who didn’t trust the elevator, merely stepped aside as the two of them barreled down flight after flight of stairs. This wasn’t the first time Stiles had had to chase his best friend down them before.  
  
The towel was a new addition though.  
  
Out of breath but still running, dodging the last few people he could see on the stairs, Stiles hurled curses at his best friend. Once on the ground floor, Scott held the phone out as he pulled his inhaler from his pocket. Apparently the fucker had gotten prepared before Stiles had finished his shower.  
  
Both of them bent over to try to catch their breaths. Stiles hiked his towel up, which had probably slipped and showed a lot to those poor people in the stairwell on his run, and then let out a loud snort at the predicament. He clasped his phone in the hand that wasn’t trying to hold up his towel.  
  
“You’re such,” he wheezed, “a dick.” Stiles unlocked his phone and saw that the friend request had already been sent. He groaned and slapped the phone against his forehead. Scott seemed to understand what happened and adopted a sheepish look quickly.  
  
“Sorry buddy. I must have hit it while I was running.” Scott did seem very close to being apologetic so Stiles nodded and clapped him on the arm.  
  
“It’s okay dude. I can just delete my Facebook. And move, I guess. It’s not a big deal really, we are friendly enough. If he has a problem, he can take the stairs.”  
  
That being said, with Scott’s complete agreement, Scott and Stiles did a complicated side hug; complicated because Stiles had his phone in one hand and the towel in his other. Scott checked his pockets for his stuff and once he was sure he had it all, he started towards the door.  
  
“You might want to go back up, I’m pretty sure you left your door open. Text me and keep me updated dude.”  
  
Stiles laughed a full body laugh that hurt because he still hadn’t recovered from his four-flight-of-stairs sprint, and offered “And let me know how long you hold out before you just agree with Allison.”  
  
The last Stiles saw of his best friend was his middle finger.  
  
With a sigh, Stiles hiked his towel up and went to the elevator. He hit the up button and prayed that it would be empty. He tossed a smile to Mrs. Kladusky from the third floor who simply rolled her eyes and continued towards the stairs. She was fairly used to Stiles’ wild antics.  
  
He’d come home one night covered in paint, glitter, feathers, and not much else. She’d been the only one who had seen but even then she had barely even blinked.  
  
When the doors opened, Stiles didn’t look up as he stepped in. Just as he pressed the 5, he heard a strangled sound from the other side of the elevator which made him look up. Of course it was Derek, of course it was. After Scott sent him the friend request, after he ran down four flights of stairs in only a towel, it had to be Derek. Obviously.  
  
Derek didn’t move until the doors started to close. He was too late to catch the doors and Stiles winced for him. Now Derek was going to have to ride back up again, get stuck again. At least he could get off on the fifth floor with Stiles and use the stairs if he didn’t want to get stuck going down again.  
  
And it wasn’t that Stiles was staring, but he did notice that Derek took care to look anywhere but at Stiles. It wasn’t like it was high school anymore, with Stiles no longer stuck in that skinny and lanky phase. He had some muscle, enough definition that he’d never had any complaints before. Of course Stiles had seen the outline of Derek’s washboard abs through a very thin t-shirt one day, so maybe he had higher standards.  
  
Still, Stiles felt the urge to apologize. Not for his physique, but for being in his towel. Quietly Stiles said “Sorry you got stuck in here again. I know it is a surprise to see a half-naked guy in the lobby. You can get off on five and walk down.”  
  
Derek nodded, eyes still far away from Stiles. He gestured a bit to his clothes; basketball shorts, a loose fitting t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. He muttered “I was just going for a run.”  
  
The elevator stalled between the third and fourth floors. Stiles watched the progression of Derek’s tension, from it not registering to Derek’s shoulders and fists tightening up, and knowing that Derek had to have been stuck in the elevator once already, Stiles quickly started to talk.  
  
“My buddy Scott stayed over last night; his pregnant fiancée kicked him out for the night. Then he stole my phone so I chased him down the stairs. In my towel,” Stiles coughed a bit and looked around the elevator for a moment before he quickly changed the subject. “I’m also pretty sure I left the door wide open.” He shrugged helplessly and then laughed a little.  
  
Derek chuckled a little nervously and said “I’m sure if you storm in there in only a towel, you’ll have the upper hand on any intruders,” and Stiles was pretty sure he saw Derek check him out from the corner of his eye.  
  
There was a brief silence that followed but it was interrupted by a mechanical chime from Derek’s pocket. He pulled out his phone and unlocked it. It wasn’t until Derek looked up and squinted at Stiles that he remembered _why_ he had been chasing Scott around in only a towel.  
  
“Oh, uh, about that…” Stiles tried to think of a non-stalkerish way to explain it but Derek simply cleared his throat and disbelievingly said “I thought you were in high school.”  
  
Sure, the first time they’d met Stiles was wearing high school clothes, and sure, when Stiles went out he still got carded, but he’d graduate from college in only a few months. A little insulted, Stiles sputtered out “You work with my dad; how do you not know that I’m definitely not in high school?”  
  
It was Derek’s turn to sputter. He looked from the phone to Stiles and then quickly back down to the phone, cheeks a little pink, as he asked “You’re Sheriff Stilinski’s son?” The incredulity made Stiles laugh.  
  
“Dude, how many people named Stiles do you know?”  
  
Derek shook his head and tucked his phone back into his pocket. He rubbed a hand over his face a few times with a sigh. Afterwards he peeked out at Stiles and let out a small laugh.  
  
“I honestly couldn’t remember his son’s name,” clarified Derek, the flush running from his cheeks to the tips of his ears and spreading down his neck. “I’m glad you’re not in high school.”  
  
The elevator shook as it started to move again. Stiles pulled his towel a little tighter to him, phone clasped dangerously tight in his slightly sweaty hand. There were only so many ways to take that sentence. When the doors opened on the fifth floor, they both stepped out.  
  
Stiles’ door was still open so he moved to it. Derek started to walk towards the stairs but Stiles called out to him.  
  
“Hey Derek, wait. Uh, what did you mean by uh, saying that you were glad that I’m not in high school?” Stiles watched Derek shift his weight from leg to leg before he slowly approached Stiles.  
  
“Well,” Derek said softly, “if you were still in high school, you wouldn’t be eighteen, and my having impure thoughts about you would be wrong.”  
  
Stiles felt the air in his lungs rush out, his throat suddenly dry. He gripped tighter to his towel and tried to sound at least somewhat nonchalant when he asked “Would you like to come in?”  
  
Derek took another step forward, slow and steady, until he was right in front of Stiles. He raised his hand and tucked it behind Stiles’ neck. With a grin, he used the grip to pull Stiles forward and gently pushed their mouths together.  
  
It wasn’t enough. Stiles surged forward against Derek, used the hand that wasn’t holding his phone to get a grip in Derek’s hair. It wasn’t until he heard a door open and a very scandalized gasp that Stiles remembered he had only been wearing a towel.  
  
Had being the key word because with one hand holding his phone and the other holding Derek, he’d released his hold on the towel. Which was now on the floor.  
  
Stiles gasped and quickly bent over to grab the towel. As he wrapped it back around his waist, Derek laughed and ducked in for a kiss. Against Stiles’ mouth, Derek whispered “I do believe you offered for me to join you inside? Unless you want to give the whole floor a show?”  
  
That made Stiles chuckle and he pulled Derek into his apartment. With a shrug of his shoulder, he deadpanned “Nah, the guy in 5C stares enough as it is.”  
  
Derek shut and locked the door behind them. From there, they quickly reattached their lips. It was a give and take, Derek holding Stiles’ head still while Stiles licked into Derek’s mouth. They tripped onto the bed with Stiles landing on top of Derek. It was a struggle to get the towel off, even more of a struggle to get Derek’s clothes and shoes off. The smiled and laughed their way through it, even when Stiles almost elbowed Derek in the face that once.  
  
Finally they were both naked. Derek ran a hand down Stiles’ side, pressed his thumbs into the various moles he found there. Stiles gasped as Derek’s hand abruptly moved from Stiles’ side to his hip bone, fingers that grazed over Stiles’ erection. Stiles hips surged forward and he groaned into Derek’s neck.  
  
“Fuuuuuck, yes, okay, more of that, come on. More, now.” Stiles didn’t care that he sounded needy. All he knew was that if Derek stopped touching him, Stiles might die.  
  
Derek seemed to like it though. He wrapped one arm around Stiles waist and flipped them over. He pushed his leg between Stiles’ thighs and breathed heavily into Stiles’ neck. His hands touched as much as they could, never to stay in one place for too long.  
  
“Please,” Derek licked his lips and bit down on Stiles’ neck as he groaned out “please tell me you have something.”  
  
Stiles paused in his movements, little aborted thrusts against Derek’s leg, to think. With a non-sex related groan, Stiles flopped down flat on his back and then shot up and started to push Derek away.  
  
“It’s in the bathroom, hurry, get up, let me get it.” Smooth as always, Stiles tripped on his way to the bathroom. Derek chuckled and Stiles quickly sifted through the stuff he had in his cabinet before he found what he was looking for; a thing of lube and a few condoms. He tripped on his way back to the bed but Derek had reached out and tugged Stiles back down onto the bed and smiled.  
  
On their sides to face each other, Derek resumed kissing Stiles’ neck. He skimmed his hands up Stiles’ side, heavy over his ribs until he softened his touch over Stiles’ hip. The feather light touch made Stiles make a few little breathless moans and arch into the contact.  
  
“Slow, there’s no need to rush,” Derek’s voice was soft, no sense of urgency in his touch. Stiles groaned and pressed his face into his pillow, fingers squeezed into tight fists. He felt Derek’s lips on his neck, his shoulder, his neck again, until Stiles turned his head and accepted a heated kiss.  
  
“You say that but I’ve wanted to touch you since that first day in the elevator,” confessed Stiles quietly as he pulled back. His mouth probably looked a little obscene but Stiles didn’t care.  
  
Derek pulled Stiles closer to him, tucked his knee over Stiles’ hip and thrusted very lightly against him, and nipped at his jaw as he asked “So why aren’t you touching me?”  
  
It wasn’t until then that Stiles realized he hadn’t really touched Derek. He hadn’t touched all of that skin that was made available to him. Stiles unclenched his fingers and reached over to run just his fingertips over Derek’s chest and arms, through the hair there.  
  
He skimmed his fingers over Derek’s nipples, watched as Derek bit his lip when Stiles traced his hands over Derek’s abs. And lower, lower where all of the heat was centered. Stiles wrapped a hand around Derek’s erection, squeezed and moved his hand up and down to feel all of him.  
  
Despite all of that, Derek’s voice was still soft, easy, and not pushing when he murmured “Are we doing this?” against Stiles’ neck. Stiles rolled over so that he was on top of Derek. He pressed his lips to Derek’s cheek, his neck, his temple, and finally his lips.  
  
“If I want it and you want it, I don’t see why we shouldn’t.”  
  
Derek smiled and wrapped his hand around Stiles’ cock. He leaned up to kiss Stiles, fist tight around Stiles as they kissed soft and sweet. Stiles couldn’t stop his hips as they jerked and he laughed breathlessly against Derek’s mouth.  
  
He couldn’t remember ever laughing during sex, not unless it was awkward and he only laughed because it was his only response. The laughs that came out of him and Derek were genuine, honest, soft, and intimate. Everything Stiles had never expected but maybe always wanted.  
  
It took some shifting but finally Stiles had placed himself over Derek’s cock. He shifted his hips, pushed his cock further into Derek’s fist. He could feel Derek’s hardness against his ass so he moved against it, watched as Derek’s stomach clenched from the sensation, felt him thrust upwards against Stiles’ ass.  
  
Stiles gave his best innocent face as he reached behind him to wrap his fingers around Derek’s cock once more and asked “I thought you said there was no rush?”  
  
Derek groaned and flipped them over. He kissed down Stiles’ chest, scraped his teeth over his nipples, before he moved further down. He bit down hard on Stiles’ hip bones,  mouthed over the moles that were dotted on Stiles’ stomach, before he raised Stiles’ legs and ran his tongue slowly over Stiles’ cock from the tip down the shaft and over his balls. Against Stiles’ thigh, Derek bit at one of the moles and then he grappled for the lube.  
  
“Screw slow, we can do slow the next time. You’re right; I’ve wanted to do this since that first day. Even though I thought you were in high school.” Derek looked a little sheepish at that particular admission but Stiles stored it for later. He was too focused on a different part of it at the moment.  
  
“There’s going to be a next time?” Stiles gasped the words out since Derek had started to suck on his cock. He had to fight to keep his eyes open but it was worth it to get to watch Derek pull off and wipe his mouth.  
  
“IF you want there to be,” His voice was very casual considering his hand had replaced his mouth on Stiles’ cock. Stiles pushed his hips forward into the contact and nodded, mouth dropped open as he tried to explain that yes he really would like that.  
  
It didn’t matter to Stiles that they hadn’t finished or even fully started their first time. He couldn’t wait for the next time, or the times to follow that.  
  
Derek must have noticed that he’d lost Stiles attention so he lowered his mouth down and slowly sunk his mouth back down over Stiles’ cock. Stiles gasped, swore, and spread his legs even more to accommodate Derek’s torso between his legs.  
  
He sucked on Stiles’ cock for a few more minutes before he fumbled with the lube. Derek squeezed some into his hand to warm it up. Once it was warm, Derek trailed his slicked fingers up the curve of Stiles’ ass and once his fingers felt the rim of Stiles’ hole, he slowly pushed one finger in.  
  
Stiles twisted his hips with the intent to get as close as possible but Derek threw his arm over Stiles’ hips. A laugh escaped Stiles as he swore and pleaded, “Fuck, more, c’mon Derek, more, please,”  
  
The begging didn’t make Derek go any faster. Instead he fucked his finger into Stiles’ even slower, made sure that Stiles felt every inch of it as he pushed it in and then pulled it back out.  
  
Soon enough, even Derek was tired of waiting. He added more lube and pushed another finger into Stiles’ hole. He moved his fingers in and out, opened them and twisted his wrist to help stretch Stiles open.  
  
Stiles who groaned and swore and writhed on the bed like some kind of porn star. It had definitely been a while since the last time he’d done this and it hadn’t even felt this good. With two of Derek’s fingers in his ass and Derek’s mouth on his cock, Stiles was sure he was dying.  
  
Oh, but what a way to go—!  
  
Stiles had been taken by surprise by the feeling of a third finger being pushed into his ass. There was more lube which dripped between his cheeks but Stiles hadn’t even seen or heard Derek get the lube.  
  
“Fuck you feel good,” Derek’s voice was rough, raspy, and Stiles could feel a full body flush because he knew that it had been his dick in Derek’s mouth that made it sound like that. Stiles wrapped one leg around Derek’s shoulder to pull him closer. Derek put his mouth back on Stiles’ cock and worked those three fingers in and out of Stiles’ ass. The faster he went, the more Stiles groaned and twisted on the bed. Finally Stiles unwrapped his leg from around Derek’s back and he pushed at Derek’s shoulders until he sat up.  
  
“C’mon, I want to come with you inside of me, fuck, please,” Stiles gasped the words as he tore a condom off of the strip and fumbled to tear it open.  
  
He pushed Derek into a kneeling position so that he could slide the condom on him. Once it was secure, Stiles gave Derek’s cock a few pumps before he crushed their mouths together again. He wasn’t sure if he could taste himself in Derek’s mouth but it didn’t matter. Derek kissed him back hard, almost rough, until Stiles pushed him onto the bed on his back.  
  
With as much grace as Stiles was capable of, he threw his leg over Derek’s hip and reached behind him. He positioned Derek’s dick at his hole, rubbed himself against the tip a few times, before he slowly started to push down on it.  
  
Once he was half way down, Stiles slowly raised up so that just the tip was still inside. He moaned and pulled at Derek’s hip, tried to get him to understand what his mouth refused to ask. It only took a moment for Derek to realize what Stiles wanted him to do. He fisted one hand in Stiles’ ridiculous hair and used his other hand to grip onto Stiles’ hip. Without waiting, Derek snapped his hips upwards and fully pushed himself into Stiles. He used his lips to chase the breathy moans that he fucked out Stiles’ mouth, his grip on Stiles’ hair keeping their lips attached as he kept fucking up into Stiles.  
  
After the kiss ended, Stiles braced his hands on Derek’s hips and fucked himself down onto Derek’s cock, mouth open as a litany of swears came poured soundlessly from his lips. Derek swore, eyes clenched shut, and Stiles was having none of that.  
  
He pulled off of Derek, kissed him hard and fast, and flipped them over. With Derek on top, Stiles smirked and breathlessly demanded “Eyes on me, big guy.”  
  
Derek huffed out a laugh. With one hand, he hoisted Stiles’ right leg up onto his hip. He kept his hold on Stiles’ thigh as he used the other to guide himself back inside of Stiles. Once fully inside, Derek slowly pulled out and then slowly pushed back in. The sensation drove Stiles wild but Derek didn’t speed up just yet.  
  
Stiles’ eyes were mostly just pupil, as were Derek’s at that point. Derek kept up his steady and slow pace until Stiles arched his back and begged “Please, Derek,” at which point Derek slammed his hips forward, fucking into Stiles hard and fast. The change of pace nearly did Stiles in, his voice getting rough as he cried out.  
  
Like they said, there was plenty of time for slow next time. All Stiles knew right then was that if Derek stopped, he’d be pissed.  
  
Stiles felt his orgasm build. Derek jacked Stiles cock in tandem with his thrusts, hard and fast and wet, which pushed Stiles closer to the edge.  
  
“More, more, I’m so close,” Stiles beseeched in a scratchy, breathy, fucked out voice. The sound must have pleased Derek because he groaned and gave Stiles a hot, wet kiss and pulled Stiles leg up higher on his hip. He thrust harder and faster, sweat pooled in the small of his back. He felt his own release build, almost taking him over, but he focused on Stiles first.  
  
Once he felt Stiles tighten around him and felt the hot spurts that signaled Stiles had found his release, it only took a few more deep thrusts before Derek came too. After he was finished, Derek rolled to the side and started to clean up.  
  
Stiles groaned and pulled himself off of the bed and into his bathroom to get something to clean them up with. Derek followed him and tossed the condom into the trash.  
  
“You’re a bad influence,” complained Stiles as he simply leaned into Derek to give him a kiss. “Usually after sex I just want to stay in bed and bask.”  
  
Derek pulled Stiles into his arms, neither really caring that they were still naked, and kissed his neck. As innocently as he could, Derek asked “Are you saying you want to cuddle Stiles?”  
  
Stiles slapped Derek’s bicep but didn’t deny it. Instead he pulled away and pulled a clean pair of boxers out of his dress. He pulled them on and then decided against getting a shirt out just yet. He unashamedly watched as Derek pulled his own boxers back on and then watched as Derek looked around at the rest of his clothes.  
  
“You can totally stay or leave or whatever. I know you said you were going to go workout or something.” Stiles gestured around the room as he spoke, none of the usual rejection or insecurity eating at him. He knew that even if Derek left right then, he’d come back at some point.  
  
Derek smiled and after he folded his clothes, he joined Stiles on the couch. There was a slight awkward moment as they tried to figure out where all of their limbs went, and then they were settled and comfortable.  
  
With a grin, Derek mentioned “I guess I could count that as my workout for today, huh? And with the possibility for another workout in the near future…” He left the rest of the sentence trail off and Stiles laughed.  
  
Later, after they traded blowjobs and made out so much that Stiles felt like a teenager again, Stiles had gone into the kitchen to make them something to eat. Derek had complained about needing sustenance if they intended to continue and Stiles had no intention of letting Derek leave until he absolutely had to.  
  
It was in the kitchen that Stiles heard his phone ping a notification. He fished it out from where he had dropped it on his bedside table, not even ten feet from where Derek sat on the couch, and unlocked it. It was a Facebook notification that Derek had accepted his friend request. Stiles laughed and joined Derek back on the couch while the chicken wings cooked.  
  
“I should reall thank Scott,” And at Derek’s look of confusion, Stiles explained “I told Scott about you and he found you on Facebook. Then he was pretending to send you a friend request from my phone and that’s why I chased him down to the lobby. In the end, the request was sent.” Stiles put his phone on the coffee table and slid closer to Derek. “If it hadn’t been for that, you probably wouldn’t have found out that I was very much legal.”  
  
Derek skimmed his hand over Stiles’ stomach, making his muscles clench. He cocked an eyebrow at Stiles and asked “Why did you chase him? Was it that big of a deal that he sent the friend request?”  
  
Stiles shook his head, gripped Derek’s wrist to pull him close and kiss him. “It just would have been weird,” pointed out Stiles while he bent down and licked Derek’s neck. “We’d only spoken in the elevator.”  
  
Derek shrugged and slowly eased his hand down Stiles’ stomach and into his boxers. Stiles’ breath hitched and with a wolfish grin, Derek whispered “Have I told you how happy I am that you’re not in high school?”  
  
With a breathless laugh, Stiles pulled Derek on top of him. Oh, he really needed to thank Scott.  
  
Two days later, after many more orgasms and being kissed in the hallway for so long that 5C definitely got a show, Stiles was still floating on cloud nine. After Derek had left that night, hours after they’d stumbled into Stiles’ apartment, he’d sent his phone number on Facebook. Of course Stiles texted constantly, told Derek that it didn’t matter if he responded because usually it was just Stiles being bored.  
  
What made Stiles feel something akin to butterflies was that Derek did respond pretty often. Not constantly, because he did have a demanding job with Stiles’ father – and Stiles really wished he could have seen how Derek acted around the Sheriff the day after they’d spent all day in Stiles’ bed – but he texted enough that Stiles felt appreciated.  
  
Two days later though, Stiles was headed to campus to drop off his paper. He worked too so most of his classes were online but some of the professors were adamant about hard copies of the papers. Stiles didn’t mind; he lived a short distance from the college and often just walked there.  
  
He got in the elevator and grinned when he saw that Derek was there too. They hadn’t met up in the elevator since Stiles’ towel fiasco, their schedules never matching up. Derek greeted him with a kiss and a not-so-subtle squeeze of Stiles’ ass.  
  
“Headed to campus?” Derek’s eyes twinkled as he asked and Stiles nodded, responded with “Headed to work?” To which Derek nodded as well.  
  
Derek didn’t wear his uniform home. Stiles hadn’t gotten around to asking why, but Derek always changed at the Sheriff’s department. Maybe Stiles would have to ask him why one day. Instead Stiles kissed Derek again and didn’t stop until the elevator halted right before the second floor.  
  
Derek tensed a bit but he tried not to show it. When he kissed Stiles that time though, his lips were stiff and Stiles bent back a bit so that they were eye to eye.  
  
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but do you want to talk about it?” Stiles didn’t say what it was, sure that Derek would understand, and surely enough Derek sighed and leaned back against the wall of the elevator, his hand still wrapped around Stiles’ waist.  
  
“It’s like I said, I just don’t like to think about falling to my death. I’ve never liked elevators but when I was ten, I was stuck in one for three hours. Just as the fire department pulled me out, the elevator had dropped to the ground floor.” Derek’s voice was soft and Stiles squeezed his arm to show that him that he was still there.  
  
“When I joined the department, I started to talk to a therapist about it. She told me to get an apartment with an elevator and to actually use it, but I didn’t. I used the stairs, even when I first moved in,” confided Derek in a tone that clearly said he wasn’t proud of himself. “That first day, when we met, was the first time I’d been in the elevator.”  
  
Stiles shook Derek’s arm until he stopped staring blankly at the wall and looked at him. When he was sure that he had Derek’s attention, Stiles questioned “After you found out that the elevator stalls, why do you still ride it? After that, I’m not sure that I would.”  
  
The question made Derek smile and he kissed Stiles softly in response. “There was this kid, a babbling yet way too attractive guy that talked me through a panic attack that day,” admitted Derek in a tone that was somewhere between honest and joking. “And the next few times, I just wanted to see him again. Even my sister Cora had seen it, when she’d been in there with us that one day. She couldn’t stop asking me about it, about the panic attacks and about you and about everything after that.”  
  
Stiles laughed and pressed his face into Derek’s neck. Even thinking that Stiles was in high school, not the age of consent, Derek had still faced a traumatic experience just to see him again.  
  
He wasn’t about to say that he loved Derek, because it was way too soon for that, but Stiles felt his heart stutter in his chest at the thought and he couldn’t help but laugh again. He pressed his lips against Derek’s neck, his cheek, the tip of his ear, his temple, and then his lips. Derek held him close as the elevator shuddered and started its descent again.  
  
“I’ll gladly ride the elevator with you if it helps.” Stiles joked, except it wasn’t a joke. He wanted Derek to be okay, knew from experience that panic attacks were hell to deal with. If his talking helped, Stiles would talk until his was blue in the face.  
  
Derek kissed Stiles and murmured against his lips, “It does help, you help,” and Stiles felt his heart stutter again.  
  
As they walked out, hand in hand, into the lobby, Stiles tossed a look over his shoulder at the elevator. He’d had a thought, one he’d had a few times since he met Sexy McBroody that first day. He turned with a grin to face Derek who raised an eyebrow, already fairly certain that a smirking Stiles was dangerous.  
  
“I think I know what might help with your fear of elevators, Derek.” He’d said it simply, with no hints as to what exactly his idea was. It didn’t matter; Derek simply shook his head.  
  
“We are not having sex in an elevator, Stiles; I’m a cop, remember?”  
  
Stiles groaned playfully, laughed when Derek pulled on his hand so that they would continue to walk. Once they were outside, as they moved to where Derek’s car was parked, he pulled Stiles in close and whispered “At least no sex in an elevator in Beacon Hills,” and then he gave Stiles an abrupt kiss and slid into the driver’s seat of his car and sped off.  
  
It took Stiles a few minutes to come to grips with what Derek had just said. Once he was sure he hadn’t imagined it, Stiles pulled his phone out. It was a ten minute walk to campus; that gave him plenty of time to check out where he and Derek could spend a long weekend.  
  
He’d have to come up with a good way to thank Derek. Although he was pretty sure he could think of a few.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
